A/N: bkdk pride week day 1 - small victories | red

Originally posted June 2, 2021

When consciousness came to Izuku in the mornings, it came in a snap.

Maybe it was years of getting up late for school after staying up too late writing in the evening, or maybe it was the heightened alertness he'd fostered in his years as a pro hero. But whatever it was, as soon as his Izuku's were open, he was up.

Up, but quiet. And slow, for the sake of his sleepyhead partner on the other side of the bed.

A low grumble left Katsuki's throat as Izuku slowly, carefully eased Katuki's twenty pound arm off of his waist, and swung his feet onto the floor, into his slippers.

Meanwhile, Katsuki didn't wake up immediately unless he had to. Where Izuku woke up like a light switch, Katsuki was on a dimmer easing into the world with gradual awareness on the mornings he was granted such luxury. So it was with a smile that Izuku left his husband in bed to start their day.

Izuku made for the kettle first, filling it with enough water for two mugs before starting with the rice cooker. Katsuki would elbow him away for the actual cooking of breakfast, but, so far, Izuku could be trusted with the rice.

The buttons on the rice cooker always rang so loud at this hour, while the light streaming in through the windows was still blue, the sound of rush hour barely started stories and stories below them. Izuku always hoped the sound seemed muffled, a soft knock on the door to Katsuki's consciousness instead of the sharp cry it was to Izuku. He always worried he'd press the buttons only to hear Katsuki's heavy feet behind him, brushing Izuku out of the way with a raspy, I'll do it, nerd.

But that didn't happen. Instead, Izuku readied their mugs—both All Might ones this morning, as with most mornings—with tea bags and spoons. Then he moved to the fridge, getting out the ingredients he expected Katsuki would want to cook with. Long ago, Katsuki had said that it was better to cook eggs at room temperature, so Izuku set them out close to the kettle, thinking that they'd get a little residual heat out of that.

Izuku turned off the kettle just when it began to bubble, knowing Katsuki would scold him if he scorched the tea. Rather, years ago he would have scolded him—now he'd probably arch an eyebrow Izuku's way and not say anything, drinking it anyway. Regardless, Izuku always tried his best to make it to his husband's liking.

Without minding the volume of his steps too much, Izuku walked back into the bedroom, steaming tea in each hand as he pushed the door open with his shoulder. He saw that Katsuki had flipped the other way, the blanket pulled over his shoulders now that Izuku and all his body heat were gone.

Izuku placed his own tea on one of the many coasters on his bedside table. You never remember them and the water is going to ruin the nice wood, Katsuki had said as he'd scattered a pack of cheap cork coasters all over the top.

Then Izuku sat on the bed and looked over his shoulder, whispering, "Kacchan," to his husband's back.

Another groan, this one louder than the first that morning. Katsuki held out his hand and Izuku carefully eased the mug's handle against Katsuki's palm. Then Katsuki was rolling over to his back, just barely sitting up, grunting and groaning the whole time.

"Good morning, Kacchan," Izuku whispered, smiling as Katsuki blew on his tea.

Katsuki grunted his reply back, and Izuku leaned in to kiss his cheek, the morning stubble sharp against his own chapped lips. As he pulled away, Katsuki grabbed Izuku's wrist and glared at him, grunting once more as he jutted his chin up. Izuku smiled again and pressed a second kiss against Katsuki's lips.

In twenty minutes, Katsuki would stumble out of bed and start on breakfast while Izuku carried on with whatever paperwork hadn't gotten finished last night. Katsuki would inevitably finish eating first, as Izuku dawdled, failing to quite pull himself out of the paperwork while they ate, and would put the dishes in the wash. He'd collect the forgotten mugs of cold tea just in time for Izuku to jump up and say, I'll do it, Kacchan! But Katsuki would be halfway to the sink and reply, I'm already doing it, nerd, finish your work.

He'd drive them to work. He'd pull Izuku's hood out of his neckline as they got changed in the locker room. He'd be the one to remind Izuku about lunch and press a full water bottle against his chest.

Izuku could itemize everything that Katsuki did for him each and every day. If he weren't so sure of their relationship, he'd be worried about ever paying him back, ever being able to give as much to Katsuki as Katsuki gave him every day.

But he was sure. So he didn't fret, he didn't worry. Rather, he simply reveled in these early hours of the morning where Katsuki was pliant. Where, in the one place outside of the field, he was happy to let Izuku lead unquestioningly. Where Izuku could, just like he was now, pick up his own tea in one hand and, with the other, card his fingers through Katsuki's hair, right where the pillow had flattened it. He'd sit, barely upright, and Izuku would go on to maybe set out clothes for Katsuki or get a quick start on the laundry.

Or maybe he'd just sit here with his arm wrapped around Katsuki's shoulder until the caffeine started to kick in. Maybe the caffeine wouldn't kick in at all, and he'd allow Katsuki to pull him back in to bed for another ten minutes before he mentioned the food he'd left out and see the way Katsuki's narrowed eyes blinked open.

Whatever it would be, Izuku looked forward to it. And, though the moment wasn't even over, he was already looking forward to tomorrow.